Aubrey arrived from university, then Angelique from college half an hour later.

Another peaceful evening on the studio porch. Young men sitting on stone benches and huddled over their cell phones. Two teenage girls playing badminton on the driveway. Two new kittens, a black one and a tricolor I'd never seen before and evidently not the offspring of MauMau.  LaLaMove and Grab deliveries to tenants. Even more tenants sauntering back and forth from the hawkers' snack stalls across the street. The neighborhood cobbler scavenging plastic and metal items in the compound trash bin. Once in a while an old man dressed in once-fine clothes and shoes comes by and scavenges in the trash bin too. His presence is always surreal to me. I am reminded of the time I conducted a creative writing workshop for juvenile delinquents on Smokey Mountain, and was brought during a break to the community's "buraot" bazaar. All of the stalls there were filled with items such as those salvaged by scavengers. I bought three, ceramic ashtrays and, as a matter of fact, one of them is on the studio porch writing desk right now.